Rumored Nervous Breakdown

Dolores left a while ago, and I am not sure how to deal with Bulstrode and Copperbottom. I knew they were lying when I arrived, but I did not realize how deeply they are involved. I wonder what Dolores is holding over their heads to bully them into compliance; however, I have a thought they may be acting on their own.

The door opens slowly and my guest is Copperbottom. He walks over to the bed to take the normal vitals and scribbles the results on my chart.

"Since you seem to be behaving yourself, Healer Bulstrode says you will not need to be restrained for the meantime," he says in a toneless voice.

"Yippee for me."

"I think it is time to get you some breakfast. If you behave, you can feed yourself," he says.

"Oh goody, feeding time at the zoo."

When he leaves, I sit up, put my chin on my knees, and decide how I am going to approach the situation; however, my thoughts are cut short by the door opening. It's Copperbottom with my so-called breakfast. The meal is made up of runny eggs, burnt toast, and Lord knows what in a glass.

"Well, tuck in," he orders.

"You're kidding, right?" I ask him. He seems stunned at my ability to carry on a conversation without screaming. "Are you sure this is breakfast? It looks like the result of a Muggle auto accident."

He cracks a slight smile as he walks out of the room shaking his head.

I manage to choke down what I assume is toast and I wash it down with the mystery liquid; it is warm and pulpy orange juice.

Bulstrode walks in the door just as I finish. She looks for me to do something other than sit here converting oxygen to carbon dioxide.

"I see we are much calmer today," she says, looking at a clipboard and turning to another page. "I noticed from your records that you have spent some time on this ward. Two attempts, this is rather serious."

"I think you should read closer. My first attempt was at fifteen, and that landed me a stay in the Children's Ward," I say, attempting to look over the top of the clipboard.

Bulstrode pulls up a chair and sits next to the bed, and she seems to be watching my behavior. She seems disappointed when I rest my chin on my knees to look at her with intense interest.

"You have a constellation of issues, dear. Anxiety, suicidal tendencies, paranoia, depression, and a host of serious health issues," she mentions tonelessly. "I have to say a bit of a high maintenance patient."

"Defining my condition as high maintenance is a polite way of saying I'm a 'pain in the ass.'"

I am just chafing at the bit to discuss Dolores; however, I am enjoying my time out of the restraints. Bulstrode writes some notes on the chart stuck to the clipboard. I wonder what she is writing. She is distracted by the door opening, and Copperbottom walks in with several potion bottles and a glass.

"Now, I expect you to behave yourself. I will not have you on this bed convulsing again," she tells me.

I decide to do what I am told, because I need to develop some sort of rapport so I can get some answers. I take what they are giving me, even though my instinct tells me not to. I feel I am given little choice to do this, but I don't feel like having another seizure anytime soon. They must have given me something to keep me quiet, because I am having trouble keeping my eyes open.

I fall asleep, but I wake up later when there is movement in the room. I decide I am too tired and comfortable to investigate who came in to visit. I hear someone set something by the bedside, the sound of silverware hitting a bowl, and the smell of chicken broth. I decide I do not have an appetite; I just close my eyes to fall back to sleep.

"Hem, hem."

"This has to be some form of hallucination."

I crack open my eyes, and I see Dolores watching me. I am stunned that she is in here at all.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Dolores, get out," I demand. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Just came by to see how you were doing in your new home," she says.

"Dolores, go!" I shout, sitting up quickly.

"Your memorial service at the Auror Headquarters was quite moving. Shacklebolt gave a lovely eulogy in your honor," she simpers. She continues, "There was a bit of a scandal when your parents refused to attend."

"Dolores, this is the last time! Get out!" I scream.

I make a move to get out of bed, and Dolores realizes she may have pushed me too far. She pulls out her wand as she moves towards the wall. I have a feeling she is going to curse me in some way. I pick up the bowl of soup, and I hurl it at her head. The bowl shatters when it hits the wall.

"How dare you," she barks.

The noise seems to have caught the attention of someone outside of the room, because Bulstrode bursts in with Copperbottom looking furious.

"Eleanor, what are you ..." Bulstrode is cut short by the sight of Dolores standing next to the smashed bowl of soup.

"Get her away from me!" I yell. I am beyond anger at this point, and I make a move to stand up; however, Copperbottom cuts me off.

"I was just concerned about how she was feeling," Dolores says, but I notice she is trembling.

My anger is about to spiral out of control, and I don't notice Copperbottom wrestling me back to the bed until I feel myself being restrained.

"Dolores, I told you to stay out of here! You are upsetting my patient!" she shouts. Bulstrode drags her out of the room.

I can hear an argument occurring outside the room. The only person shouting is Bulstrode, but I do not hear Dolores. When the shouting stops, Bulstrode walks in still furious. She calls Copperbottom out to the hallway, leaving me lying on the bed out of breath.

"Really stupid, Nell, you just let Dolores push your buttons forcing you to have a tantrum. You have just blown what little privilege you may have just earned."

Bulstode strides into the room looking very put out, and I cannot tell who she is really angry with me or Dolores.

"I can see what Madam Umbridge was talking about when you were first brought in. That is quite a temper you have. I see that your anxiety and paranoia are coming to the surface, and I am rather concerned about this. What prompted you to throw your lunch at Madam Umbridge?" She is standing before me discussing this situation like I am a misbehaving toddler.

"She wouldn't leave me alone. I told her that she needed to leave, but she wanted to discuss the highlights of my memorial service at the Ministry," I say, nearly out of breath.

"Eleanor, I believe you had a panic attack, and misinterpreted the situation. I think your imagination is getting away with you," she says without emotion.

"She was going to curse me with her wand," I explain, with my voice rising in volume.

Bulstrode stands next to the bed taking notes on our discussion, and I don't think she is really listening to me. "Eleanor, Madam Umbridge brought you here to save your life; there is no reason why she should try and harm you."

"Bulstrode, why are you helping her? You read the articles in the paper, and it is obvious that I am not dead!" I yell at her. "What has she told you about me? What twisted excuse did she use for you to help fake my death?"

"Eleanor, I will just tell you that your delusions have put you in a rather precarious situation. You tried to blackmail the Ministry and prominent members of the community using non-existent evidence. Madam Umbridge cares about you so much that she is willing to fake your death to prevent you from dying in Azkaban. All she wants is to help you; she is trying to be a good friend," she tells me.

I break out in laughter and tell her, "I cannot believe you are buying into her fantasy. You call me delusional."

"I think there needs to be a discussion about what safety measures I will need to take. I would not want you to hurt yourself or anyone else," she states. "This means someone will have to assist you at meals, and you will remain in restraints until I feel you can control yourself. Your records have shown you have attacked the hospital staff before."

I open my mouth to protest; however, this will only add more fuel to the fire. I realize how exhausted this exchange has left me, and I wish she would leave me alone to be miserable in peace.

Bulstrode places her clipboard on the bedside table, pulls up a chair, and sits next to the bed to get down into my line of sight. I now realize how upset I really am. I have just noticed I am soaked in sweat, and I am still breathing a bit shallow.

"Now, I need for you to calm down," she says gently. "I don't need you to make yourself sick again. I will not allow her to see you without me here, because I can see that she upsets you; however, she has brought you here to get some help." Bulstode pulls out a handkerchief and mops some of the sweat off of my forehead.

"Help! Who is she kidding! I am here to keep me out of Dolores' hair. Oh, no! Who would believe that the delusional Nell might not be so delusional?"

Copperbottom walks in with a glass of water, and I am not going to fight drinking it. I feel like I have swallowed a hundred cotton balls. When I finish drinking, I instantly feel a bit calmer. I am hoping this is only water, I really need to think. I must make some decisions on how I am going to handle this latest setback; however, my eyes seem to have developed a mind of their own, and I suddenly relax. I don't think either Healer realizes that I am still able to understand their conversation.

"Copperbottom, this is a prime example of how quickly a patient can take a turn," Bulstrode notes. She continues her lecture with, "If you notice how anxiety can cause a patient to think that even a familiar person wishes to do them harm." Bulstrode runs the handkerchief over my forehead again. "You must remember to use sympathy and authority when encouraging someone who is this ill to discuss their feelings."

"Lady, you have no idea who really needs your help. I'll drop you a hint. She is short, obnoxious, wears rose perfume that could choke a hippogriff, she has no dress sense, and does not have the social skills God promised a lemon."

Bulstode's voice is now fading in and out, and I finally give into my aggression-induced exhaustion.

________________________________________________________________________

I wake up with the room in almost total darkness, and the only light is coming from beneath the crack in the door. I realize that I am in fresh robes and crisp bedding. This little mercy does little to raise my spirits. Since I can only lie here in the dark having little to occupy my time, I remember the incidents that have earned me a reputation in this ward. On my last stay, I was not exactly a model patient. I was difficult, angry, somewhat violent, and I could not have cared less if I lived or died. My thoughts are drifting away to the incident that occurred ten years before.

It has been two and a half months since my attack at the Ministry. When I woke up the first week at St. Mungo's, I knew my life was over. I am still very angry, because I missed Aggie's funeral. I did not have a chance to say goodbye or tell the Prewetts that I was sorry for not being able to save their daughter.

The past week has been a hollow victory. I am able to walk down the hallway of the ward without someone holding me up. I have astounded both the Healers and my parents by walking weeks ahead of expectation; however, every step I take or small movement is repaid by throbbing pains emanating from every limb.

The Healer is standing at the foot of my bed with a smile on her face. "I have decided to let you go home to finish your recovery. I think you will get further in familiar surroundings," she says.

"I can't do that, I live alone," I reply.

"Your parents have made arrangements for you to stay with them. Isn't that wonderful?" she asks.

"No, that is not wonderful. That means I will have my Mum fussing over me endlessly. When I was a child, she kept looking for ways to make me feel better, but she sometimes made me feel worse. It is like having a love-sick terrier puppy hanging all over you."

The promise is kept, my release papers have been signed, but my escort is not either of my parents.

"It's Remus. I don't know if I should be happy or not. I know all he sees is a horrible wreck of a human being who cannot make it to the toilet without assistance."

Remus manages to get us to my parents' house, because I am far too weak to Apparate on my own. I don't have the energy to Summon a dust bunny off the floor. I manage to make it across the living room to collapse on the couch in exhaustion. I notice for the first time how tired and haggard he is looking. His hair has more grey in it than I would have expected.

"Doesn't it feel great to get out of that hospital bed," Remus says with cheer.

"Yeah, wonderful," I say without confidence.

"Remus, being gnawed on by a dragon would give the same feeling as coming here. At least you know the pain will stop at some point. Who are you kidding, Sport?"

My Mum spends fifteen minutes hugging and fussing over me. Remus comes to my rescue when he tells her that a cup of tea might make me feel better.

"He has always been the one who can read my thoughts."

Dad is walking through the door as Mum finishes the tea, and she sits down to discuss the mounds of instructions on taking care of me. Remus will come in every few days to give my parents a break on taking care of me; however, I think the real reason is to keep my mother from babying me too much. To encourage my independence, the front parlor will serve as my room until I can walk upstairs without help.

Remus and I have been talking about school, and we only briefly discuss his recent loss of his friends Lily, James, and Peter. His wound seems to be just as fresh as mine. They were two years ahead of me, and I only knew them in passing. When you are in school, you tend to hang around the other students in your house and year. Remus and I knew each other, because we spent so much time together in the Hospital Wing.

Mum has made dinner, Remus is staying for the meal, and I cannot keep my eyes open. I decide I need to show some gratitude and pick at my dinner. I make it to the first course; I drop off when Mum attempts to serve the peas. Remus grabs the back of my collar when I take a header into the mashed potatoes. Dad sees me as a lost cause and carries me back to the couch.

This morning my body sends me a reminder of how horribly the attack has insulted it. It takes me half an hour to make it to the toilet on my own. I did not want to ask for help, because I am tired of depending on others to take care of me.

The whole day is occupied by exercises to strengthen my weakened muscles and doses of medication. I just dread when it is time for me to go to bed, because all I have to keep me company are constant nightmares about the attack and stabbing pains radiating through every muscle and joint.

"I just want it all to go away!"

The whole week has passed with the days running into each other. Mum decides I need some distractions to keep me busy, so she invites a few of my coworkers to drop by; however, I feel this is throwing the whole incident in my face. With every visitor, I feel my wounds over the death of my best friend being ripped wide open. I manage to smile in all the right places and nod politely when I am addressed. Once the stream of visitors comes to an end, Remus manages to show up for dinner.

I am managing to make it through the first course, but I nod off during dessert. Dad manages to carry me back to the sofa. I take my medication and sleep begins to dampen any thoughts. I can hear conversation taking place taking place at the other end of the room.

"Roger, I am just a little worried about her right now. She's just not acting right. Has she mentioned anything about what happened at the Ministry?" Remus asks in a hoarse whisper.

"No, she hasn't. It has only been a week since she left the hospital. Just give her more time; Nell will discuss this when she is ready," my father responds.

"I know what happened when she was fifteen, and I am afraid she will attempt to kill herself again," Remus says quietly.

"Nell has put that unfortunate incident behind her; there is little to worry about," my father replies.

I wake up a few hours later with the most unbearable pain in my body, and my mind playing images of the attack running through my mind. I cannot handle this one more day; I am going to put an end to this.

This morning I get a chance to put an end to my misery so no one has to deal with it any longer. Mum and Dad leave for a while to meet with friends, and Remus is not due to arrive until after lunch. I write a very short note discussing how sorry I am; however, I do not mention anything about the Ministry. I swallow the contents of several potion bottles, and I collapse on the couch. I can hear someone calling my name from a distance, but I don't care.

I am waking up with the disappointment of being alive. I am in a cold room with only a bed, table, and a chair. I noticed that my arms and legs are restrained to prevent me from moving.

"I could not save my best friend or end my misery. Can't I do anything right?"

The door opens quietly to reveal that I have a visitor; I hope it is not my parents. The newcomer is in Healer's robes and has a grandfatherly smile on his face.

"I see that we have been depressed since you left the hospital a week ago," he notes.

"Wow, what an astute individual. What makes you think I have been depressed? Could it be I just tried to kill myself?"

"Why don't we discuss why you tried to hurt yourself. It might make things easier if you talk about it." He is poised, waiting for me to say something.

"You need to realize everyone says everything will get easier. I have lost my best friend, my job, and the ability to care for myself. Well it's not!" I shout. I have started crying out of control, and the Healer is left with little choice but to sedate me.

I have spent a week on this ward; however, I am relocated when my heart condition relapses from the medication I overdosed on. It is much more relaxed in the medical wards, but I still feel very on edge. Every little noise makes me jump.

This morning I am sent for another therapy session with a trainee Healer. I don't like him, because he keeps pushing me too hard. He is badgering me to remember details about the attack.

I face the fool as he sits in his chair. He begins to ask me about the nightmares and wishes to hear every detail about the vivid images. I cannot take it anymore; I just want him to leave me alone. Something in me snaps, and I rush him. I grab his clipboard, hit him over the head, and kick him in the groin. Suddenly the room fills with people to find out what is going on. It takes four people to subdue me.

I spend a month on lockdown before I am allowed to go home. I have hours of therapy until I can reconcile what happened with Aggie is not my fault. As for the Healer, he has been relocated to the Spell Damage ward.

Now I am back in this ward because of Dolores. At least the last time, my parents knew that I was alive and working towards going home. This time they think I am dead. I long to find a way to let them know I am alive.